


tired of pretending

by curiositykilled



Series: tumblr prompts [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Planet, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 15:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12510052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiositykilled/pseuds/curiositykilled
Summary: Hunk sighed, adjusting his jacket and the sash overtop yet again. Their room had come equipped with full-length trifold mirrors so that iterations of his own reflection twisted and fidgeted with him. In each of them, his formalwear was impeccable. But then, it wasn’t the clothing that was making him nervous.





	tired of pretending

                  Hunk sighed, adjusting his jacket and the sash overtop yet again. Their room had come equipped with full-length trifold mirrors so that iterations of his own reflection twisted and fidgeted with him. In each of them, his formalwear was impeccable. But then, it wasn’t the clothing that was making him nervous.

                  Shoulders dropping, Hunk smoothed over the gold sash one more time and stepped away. The room he and Keith had been given was lavish, to say the least. It settled uncomfortably in his gut, that the Anterix nobles had kept so much for their comfort while the majority of their people suffered in slave labor. They’d welcomed Voltron with open arms, but those were the same arms that had readily embraced the Galra.

                  The door opened with a hush, and Hunk turned to see Keith walking in with a tablet in hand. He lifted it as he caught Hunk’s eye.

                  “Shiro and Allura want to check in,” he explained.

                  Hunk nodded and settled beside Keith on the foot of their bed. The mattress was plush enough that Keith slid in to Hunk’s side as it dipped under their weight, a warm line against Hunk’s side. He held the tablet between them as the display flickered and then established a connection showing Allura and Shiro crowded around the other end.

                  Both of them, if Hunk was honest, looked terrible. Their last mission had gone terribly awry. Each of the paladins had taken damage, but Shiro and Allura had used their bodies as shields to protect the others and taken the brunt of it, leaving Shiro with his prosthesis wrecked and Allura unconscious. Even now, a week and a half later, they both looked as if a spring breeze would lay them out.

                  “Hello!” Allura said with artificial cheer. “How are the Anterices treating you?”

                  Keith shrugged, and Hunk hesitated. Despite his misgivings toward their hosts, they had been nothing but welcoming to Keith and Hunk. The only discomfort they’d run into was one of miscommunication – but that misunderstanding had set an awkward mood between Keith and Hunk for the entire stay.

                  ‘Partners,’ as it turned out, had a very specific meaning in the Anterixian language, and it wasn’t exactly platonic. By the time they’d figured out the reason for all the meaningful looks and subtle comments, it had been too late to backtrack. Allura and Shiro had assured them that they needn’t continue it if it made them uncomfortable and that their wellbeing was the top priority – but the Anterices were a wealthy group with the kind of intact infrastructure that was rare in freed groups, and it was hard to say that pretending to be a couple was more than they could do when Shiro and Allura had nearly died to protect them. Both of them had, reluctantly, agreed.

                  It would be easier, Hunk was fairly sure, if these pretend feelings weren’t so close to his real ones. Keith was everything he wasn’t – decisive and quick on his feet and kind of a badass. There were also the bits where he was basically a half-alien space knight – which was kind of freaking awesome.

                  So, yeah, Hunk had a massive crush on his teammate, but it was fine. It was all under control. Until they got paired up for this in a veritable honeymoon suite and had to pretend to be in love all the time. Because, as it turned out, there really wasn’t much pretending involved.

                  “They’re fine,” Keith said. “We’re supposed to go to a gala tonight to celebrate the liberation.”

                  “And how are you two?” Shiro asked. “We can pull you out any time you need.”

                  “Shiro’s right,” Allura added. “The Anterices could be useful allies, but the Coalition doesn’t _need_ them. We do need you two.”

                  They spoke with the kind of firm belief that was their specialty, even with dark circles under their eyes and bandages striping their skin.

                  “We’re fine,” Keith said. “It’s just a party.”

                  “We know you’ve got our backs,” Hunk added with a smile. “We’ll let you know if we get in over our heads.”

                  The other two smiled a little, almost reflexively, and Shiro shook his head.

                  “Please let us know _before_ that,” he laughed.

                  They laughed and agreed and, after a quick summary of what they’d been doing and how the other members of Team Voltron were, the call disconnected and left the room in sudden silence. Without Shiro and Allura’s familiar faces before them, Hunk felt that previous tension suddenly return to his shoulders. Beside him, Keith’s shoulders squared and he straightened up away from Hunk, leaving Hunk’s side cooler for his absence.

                  “So, uh, you ready?” Keith asked, fidgeting with the tablet.

                  “Oh! Yeah, I’m good,” Hunk said.

                  Keith nodded, still not making eye contact, and Hunk chewed his lip as he tried to think of something to say.

                  There’d been an awkward tension between them all day, ever since they woke up curled around each other in the middle of their shared bed. He was sure it was just because Keith got cold at night – his fingers had felt like ice – but they hadn’t had a chance to say anything before Keith had nearly flown from the bed.

                  It had stung, a little. Looking back on it, Hunk knew it was unconscious and had no bearing on either of their feelings. When he’d first woken, though, he’d opened his eyes to the morning auroras playing over Keith’s face and Keith’s half-lidded eyes resting on Hunk’s face. He’d felt something warm unfurl in his chest in that moment, curling around him like sunshine.

                  Taking a breath, Hunk braced himself and plunged right in. For once, he figured, he might as well take a page out of Keith’s book.

                  “About this morning,” he started.

                  “I’m sorry,” Keith interjected without looking up. “I shouldn’t have – I can sleep on the floor or in another room or-”

                  Hunk closed his mouth and frowned, startled, as he tried to parse Keith’s sudden gush of words. It took a moment to realize, with a weird sense of disorientation, that they’d switched places; where Hunk had pushed forward, now Keith was stammering.

                  “Keith,” Hunk interrupted, resting a hand on Keith’s near shoulder. Immediately, Keith stilled. “I was going to apologize _to you_. You left so quickly I thought you were upset.”

                  Under Hunk’s hand, Keith tensed and then wilted. The tablet fell still between his hands, and his head dipped to focus on it. He was quiet a long moment before speaking.

                  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m not upset – at you, anyway.”

                  He let out a breath and tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling until his hair tickled at Hunk’s fingers. Hunk waited; he knew how hard it was for Keith to talk about his emotions, and he wasn’t going to jeopardize this vulnerability by rushing him.

                   “This whole – pretense bothers me,” Keith admitted. “I hate it.”

                  “Oh,” Hunk said, drawing his hand back into his lap.

                  He hadn’t realized Keith objected to it that much, though he probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Keith was wiling to sacrifice anything for a mission – especially if it was for Shiro – and his discomfort was a smaller sacrifice than others he’d made. Hunk turned his gaze down, to where his fingers now wrung together in his lap.

                  It was petty, he knew, but he couldn’t help thinking that Keith wouldn’t have these objections if it were Shiro or Lance who’d been assigned to be his partner. There weren’t words to explain the devotion between Keith and Shiro, and sure he and Lance would’ve protested at first, but their rocky beginnings had already flourished into a kind of teasing, bantering friendship. Hunk had thought they were already past that, had thought, maybe, there was even the potential for something else.

                  Evidently, he’d been wrong.

                  “I didn’t realize,” he said, voice a little distant. “We just have the gala left and tomorrow, but if it bothers you that much to pretend to be in a relationship with me, we can always ask the others to come get us.”

                  “What? No!” Keith said, jerking up to his feet.

                  His jacket was a little rumpled from how he'd been slouched, the sash wrinkled near his hip. Hunk watched him, hands twisted together and shoulders curved in. For the first time in this whole trip, he wanted nothing more than to be back on the Castle where he could seek out Shiro or Lance or Pidge for comfort. Now, he wished he could disappear and not have to face whatever rejection Keith was about to mete out.

                  "It's okay," he said evenly. "Like Shiro and Allura said, your comfort matters more than making these guys allies. We can leave. It's not a big deal."

                  "No - that's not" - Keith stopped, clenching his fists and scowling - "That's not what I meant."

                  "It seems like what you meant," Hunk retorted.

                  Keith deflated, shoulders slumping and expression crumpling. It wouldn't have been a dramatic change on anyone else, but for Keith, it was a disconcerting vulnerability.

                  "I don't want to leave," he said quietly. "I just hate pretending with you."

                  There was something in his tone that made Hunk pause, halted the immediate, gut-ache response of those words. Keith clenched his jaw, staring through the hard floor as if he could burn a hole through it if he just stared long enough.

                  "I don't want to pretend with you," he started slowly, "because I - I like you. A lot. And pretending when I know you don't feel the same way hurts."

                  Hunk gaped, then blinked as if that would make his hearing any better. Surely what he'd heard couldn't be what Keith had actually said.

                  "It's not you," Keith said softly, "it's me."

                  He didn't lift his gaze, and as the silent stretched taut between them, his fists clenched tighter by his legs. Hunk's jaw worked, trying desperately to find words that would make sense of the situation before Keith misinterpreted the silence and fled.

                  "Keith" - he started, but the time was up.

                  "It's fine," Keith said, straightening up stiffly. "Let's just go to the gala and pretend I didn't say anything and then we'll be done tomorrow. I'm sorry I said anything."

                  Hunk reached out to stop him, but Keith was already stalking stiff-backed out the door. They hushed shut behind him, and Hunk stared at their solid grey for a long moment before groaning and dropping his head in his hands. This was supposed to be a great moment. It was supposed to be giddy and happy. Instead, his mouth tasted sour with disappointment and regret.

                  After a few minutes of rehashing every second of their exchange, Hunk finally heaved himself to his feet and trudged out the door down the same hallway through which Keith had escaped. it didn't take too long to bump into his teammate; they were expected to arrive as a pair, and Keith had no doubt realized that after he'd fled the room. Now, Hunk found him standing stiffly at the terminus of the hall, just before the ballroom doors. An Anterix servant stood on either side of the door, waiting to admit the two paladins.

                  "Keith," Hunk said, stopping beside his teammate.

                  Before he could continue, the two servants curved in low bows and one stepped nearer to them.

                  "Are you ready, Paladins?" they asked, spindly body still bent in a subservient bow.

                  "Yeah," Keith said. "Go ahead."

                  "Keith!" Hunk groaned, but it was too late to stop him.

                  Already, the servants had pressed their tailtips to the scanner on either side of the door, and bright green lit up in a grid across the door panels. The first time he'd seen it, Hunk had been awed by the effortless incorporation of biologic magic into their architecture. Now, he couldn't help hating its efficiency for stealing away his chance to clear things up with Keith.

                  As the doors opened, Keith stepped to Hunk's side with his back still military-straight. His chin was lifted just slightly, in what passed for regal formality but what, to anyone who knew him, really meant he was upset. Hunk huffed a breath of frustration and straightened up beside him.

                  The doors dissolved in a shimmer of magic, and the two of them stepped forward together to the high platform on which they'd be announced. Sure enough, an Anterixian official stood waiting in their flowing yellow robes. They bowed, a ripple of movement as their many legs scuttled back to support their thin body, before straightening and turning to the audience. Their tail curved up, tip pressing against their throat.

                  "We most humbly and adoringly present to you our great planet's saviors, the Paladins of Voltron!" they declared in an artificially magnified voice.

                  As they finished, the assembly below burst into a thunder of clicking approval as the Anterices chattered in applause. The platform on which the two of them stood disengaged and began floating down towards the floor. Realizing the myriad escape routes that the lower level offered Keith, Hunk turned partially towards him.

                  "Keith, please, can we talk?" he asked. "Just give me five minutes."

                  "We're here representing Voltron," Keith answered curtly. "Personal matters don't matter."

                  The platform settled onto the floor and paused to let them disembark before it dissolved into the floor. Immediately, they were surrounded by Anterices vying for attention from their guests. Hunk reached out for Keith, but his hand was caught instead by the carapace-covered limb of an Anterixian noble.

                  "Great Paladin," they greeted, bowing their head to nuzzle into the back of Hunk's hand. Their carapace was smooth and cold to the touch, sending goosebumps up his arm. "We cannot express our gratitude for your aid. You have saved us from tyranny."

                  "Uh just - just doing our jobs," Hunk stammered. "That's what Voltron's here for."

                  The Anterix chittered, mandibles clicking together.

                  "You are most humble," they said. "Please, come dance with me. It would be a great honor."

                  Before Hunk could protest that he didn't even know how they danced, he was tugged into a circle of Anterices all swaying together. His apparent partner pressed him in before them, squeezing him in as part of the inner circle in the set. His shoulders jostled the Anterices on either side of him.

                  "Sorry! Sorry," he said.

                   They didn't seem to notice, and it took a moment for Hunk to realize they'd reached out and intertwined their arms with their partners in the outside circle. A soft green glow surrounded their joined limbs, and Hunk eyed them with a queasy uncertainty. He wasn't sure what exactly that meant, but it definitely didn't look like standard dancing procedure. He turned to his own partner and found their arms already extended.

                  "Uh," he managed, ever-eloquent. "What's going on?"

                  "Dancing," his partner replied helpfully. "We establish our bond and allow our emotions to be expressed through our shared movement. Is that not how Paladins dance?"

                  Hunk paused, closing his mouth with a click. Put that way, it wasn't that different from dancing back home. He extended his hands to his partner, and they reached out. Their arms met his with an electric thrill that set the hair on his arms on end, and as he watched, that same green glow suffused them.

                  Immediately, he was inundated with a wash of emotions and images. There was language there he couldn't parse but the feelings - the feelings were all too familiar. An Anterixian with blue scales and pink eyes; warmth, safety - love. A Galra ship and its faceless crew; needle-tipped pricks of fear. Voltron; a flicker of something like hope.

                  He opened his eyes without realizing he'd closed them and found tear tracks down his cheeks. His partner met his gaze evenly, feathered frill laying close to their neck.

                  "My apologies," they said. "I forgot that you may not be accustomed to the bond."

                  Hunk swallowed and sniffed back the unexpected tears in his throat.

                  "No, it's - it's okay," he said. "You can feel all that just by touching someone?"

                  The Anterix gave a humming sound low in their throat, like a cricket rubbing its wings together.

                  "You humans do not have the Gift," they explained, "so what you felt was what we might feel standing in a room together. To touch is to share much more intimately."

                  The thought was humbling. As this evening had made clear, humans had a hard enough time handling their own emotions - to feel everyone else's as well seemed overwhelming. When he voiced that thought, though, his partner clicked in laughter.

                  "Oh. Well. You humans project your feelings much more loudly than we," they explained. "You are like an untapped spring. We bond regularly to prevent them building up."

                  Hunk flushed at the implication. He'd known it wouldn't be subtle that something was amiss between him and Keith, but now, he was awash in embarrassment that the entire room was aware of what exactly had happened. Everyone in the room knew how he felt - except Keith.

                  "I confess, I asked you to dance for that reason," his partner admitted. "Your partner's emotions are much noisier, but he seems much less willing to bond."

                  Hunk's shoulders slumped and he gave a small nod. It was true, even if it made him feel even guiltier for failing earlier. His partner's arms tightened where they were twined around his.

                  "Except with you," they said.

                  He looked up in surprise, but his partner only released him and nodded across the room, to where Hunk knew there were curtained balconies. His skin tingled with cold at the loss of the magic bond, and he rubbed at his wrists as he threw a grateful smile at his partner and hurried across the room.

                  Sure enough, he found Keith alone on the edge of one of the balconies. Taking a deep breath, Hunk braced himself and walked over to where Keith leaned against the railing. Keith had his arms around his chest, curved inwards as if to protect himself.

                  "Hey," he greeted as he settled beside Keith.

                  Keith glanced over and then burrowed lower into his raised shoulders. He looked a little like a disgruntled cat, all fluffed up and irritated.

                  "I'm not that great with words," Hunk said, "which, I mean, you probably know by now. You caught me by surprise earlier."

                  If possible, Keith's head sunk lower towards his chest.

                  "See, I was unhappy pretending, too," he said, "because it felt like I was getting a taste of something I'd never have in real life. Like someone had shown me a perfect souffle only for it to be plastic."

                  He paused, taking a deep breath and raking his hand back through his bangs. The auroras were stunning here, all an impossible blue against the black void of space. He focused on their blazing trails and willed them to give him courage.

                  "I really like you," he said. "Like, really like you. And I never thought you could like me back because you're - well, you. Brave and tough and cool. And I'm me - the team chicken."

                  Keith made a noise of protest, but Hunk pushed forward.

                  "So when you said you were uncomfortable, I thought it was because you didn't like people thinking you were with me in that way," he explained. "And then you said that it was because you liked me, and my brain kind of short-circuited."

                  He flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced over to find Keith staring at him, mouth parted.

                  "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Um. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if we both like each other - maybe we could stop pretending and just...be together for real?"

                  Keith's shoulders had dropped completely, and his expression was one of soft shock. The auroras caught in his eyes, turning them blue in their glow. As Hunk watched, his expression firmed and turned into a familiar, stubborn frown.

                  "You’re not a chicken,” Keith said with the kind of gravity usually left to great speeches. “Bravery comes from being scared and doing the hard thing anyway. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

                  “Oh,” Hunk said, startled. It wasn’t exactly the response he’d expected.

                  “And,” Keith continued, “if you’d let me, I’d really, _really_ like to date you. For real. No more pretend.”

                  A smile spread across Hunk’s face, delight flickering warm in his chest.

                  “I’d really like that, too,” he affirmed.

                  Keith smiled then, lips curling up just-so at the corners. Before he could reply, a full-body shiver broke through him, and he grabbed at his arms. Hunk frowned. It was cool out here compared to the crowded ballroom, but he hadn’t thought too much of it except for relief at the refreshing change.

                  “Are you cold?” he asked.

                  “I’m fine,” Keith said stubbornly. “Just a little chilly.”

                  Hunk shook his head, stifling a smile as he shrugged out of his overjacket. It nearly swallowed Keith’s smaller frame whole, and Keith froze.

                  “No, I can’t take this from you,” he objected. “You’ll get cold!”

                  “I’m fine,” Hunk assured him, “and anyway, if you’re my boyfriend now, don’t I get to take care of you?”

                  Keith’s cheeks flushed a bright pink, but he relented. Clutching the lapels close to him, he nestled into the warm fabric. Hunk wrapped an arm around him to pull him gently to his side, and Keith came willingly, leaning most his weight into Hunk.

                  “Why are you out here anyway?” Hunk asked after a pause.

                  Keith was quiet a minute, and Hunk looked down to find him studying the railing before them. Eventually, he gave a small shrug.

                  “I’m not…really a fan of crowds,” he admitted. “And all the touching.”

                  “Oh!” Hunk released him immediately, wincing. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked-”

                  One of Keith’s hands snuck out from under the jacket to tug on Hunk’s wrist. He was looking up at Hunk now, a small, fond smile on his lips.

                  “It’s okay,” he said. “I like when it’s you.”

                  Heat and delight flushed warmth into Hunk’s cheeks, and he settled back how he was with his arm snug around Keith’s shoulders. Keith nestled back into his side, leaning his head on Hunk’s shoulder, and they stood in quiet contentment as the auroras continued to burn overhead.

                  After a few minutes, Hunk felt something cold against his hand and glanced down to find Keith’s fingers working up through the neck of the jacket to reach Hunk’s. He shifted, moving his hand to slide their fingers together, and Keith looked over to him.

                  “Good?” he asked.

                  “Yeah,” Hunk affirmed with a smile. “Good.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
